Tekster: Exhumator. Infernal Visions.

Cold twilight descends to the ground
Wrapping up its from all sides with dark threads of silver
All sounds habitual for us are dipping into absolute darkness
Leaving us alone with obscurity
Pale Moon breaking through the leaden clouds
Lights forgotten cemetery with pale light of its empty eyehole
Perverting and disfiguring the tombstones and crypts
Turning the figures of movement into infernal monsters
Sometimes rustle, wolfish howling or crack of dry branches
Reaching from the forest are slicing the silence
Shocking the head and insisting the heart
To beat in mad rhythm
Perverting grimace of face and escaping
Unhuman cry with all guts from the throat
Celebration of shadows is here
Disgusting trembling throws over from hands to the body
Pressing the respiration out from forehand
Turning sanity off and stands its to the throne
Legs became stone without power to make a motion
All organism turns into pile of shit, yes, whole
Complicated machine turns into excrements
Incapable to analyze those, what happening.
Fear kills life. Killing pain.